Nightmare
by bringonthew0nder
Summary: Bucky didn't fall from the train in 1945 - he lived long enough to see Steve die, and it's the worst moment of his life. Peggy and Bucky aren't really friends, but she'll do her damnedest to save him when both of their worlds seem to stop spinning. Angst. Pain. Peggy/Bucky if you squint.


**I don't even have a good excuse for this. As the doctor's say, "It might pinch a bit."**

 **Will write more for reviews.**

Peggy stood quietly by the controls while Bucky paced madly behind her. The tension and guilt was almost overwhelming him. Steve was on that plane – alone – with the Red Skull and Bucky couldn't do a goddamn thing about it. He would give anything to be there with him.

Peggy heard Bucky pacing in front of her, and the patting of his shoes against the stone floor was making her even more edgy than she was already. She knew how he felt – or perhaps she didn't – but she had some idea, didn't she? They both loved him and they both feared for him. Usually she would say no news is good news, but she couldn't convince herself that was the case at the moment.

"Bucky," Peggy said tersely. "Can you… _not_ pace? Please?" Bucky just shot her an annoyed look and kept pacing. Then he stopped and stared at the screens around them. Then he took in the people around them.

"Isn't there something we can do?" he said suddenly, slamming his fist on the console. "There's gotta be!"

Peggy closed her eyes and prayed for patience. She didn't dislike Bucky, but she didn't necessarily like him either. He was a rougher version of Steve. He wasn't a bad man by any stretch of the imagination. He was just a little too much. _Though Steve might be doing the same thing if he were in Bucky's place_ she thought to herself _They're different sides of the same coin._ The thought kept her from snapping at Bucky.

"There's nothing we can do," she said quietly. "Just be patient and believe in your friend. Steve can do this."

Bucky ran a hand through his hair and looked away from her. He plopped down on a seat next to the radio, suddenly looking lost. Peggy glanced at him sympathetically, but she didn't have time to worry about him.

Bucky knew he was overreacting. Steve would be okay. Steve was always okay. He kept fighting no matter what, and he always stayed alive. Steve always came back. Right?

"Come in this is Captain Rogers - do you read me?" His voice rang loud and clear from the intercom and everyone jumped. Bucky wheeled his way toward the microphone and Peggy ran to it.

"Steve, what's going on?" Bucky said at the same time that Peggy asked frantically,

"Steve, is that you, are you alright?" They both glanced at each other at the same time, glaring for control over the microphone.

"Peggy!" Steve exclaimed, and Peggy felt both a wave of relief and a feeling of triumph that he had acknowledged her first. That only lasted for a moment before she saw Bucky's face crumple. She looked away, taking control of the microphone that Bucky surrendered.

"Schmidt's dead," Steve continued, oblivious of the situation in the control room. Peggy bit her lip. Schmidt was dead but Steve sounded more strained than he should if the situation was a good one. She tried not to assume the worst.

"What about the plane?" she asked after a moment. Bucky watched her carefully, nodding to himself.

Steve was silent for a moment before replying, "That's a little bit tougher to explain." Bucky frowned at the microphone and leaned forward and spoke before Peggy had a chance.

"What the hell d'you mean 'that's tougher to explain'? Where are you? We'll land you, safe and sound so we can all go home."

"Bucky…" Bucky heard a certain sadness in his tone. As if he hadn't thought about going home to a normal life in a long time.

"What? What's wrong?" Bucky asked, panic creeping into his voice.

"It's not gonna be a safe landing, Buck. I'm gonna have to try and force it down."

"And what makes you think –"

"Bucky, _please_ ," Peggy said, swatting his hand from the microphone. Bucky glared at her again, and she stuttered into the microphone when she meant to speak clearly and calmly, "W-we'll get Howard on the line. He'll know what to do."

"There's not enough time. This thing's moving too fast and it's heading for New York...I gotta put her in the water." Steve was exhausted and hopeless. All three of them knew that. He saw one option and he couldn't see a way out. What he didn't realize was that both Bucky and Peggy would likely sacrifice all of New York for his life.

"Steve, please don't," Bucky said finally when neither of them spoke. "You can't. We have time to fix this, just don't…" He swallowed the words he couldn't say. "We can talk about this." Peggy couldn't bear to look at Bucky. She heard the brokenness in his voice. He knew as well as her what would happen next, because Steve would never save himself at the expense of another person, much less a whole population.

"I can't, Buck. If I wait any longer, a lot of people are gonna die." Bucky slammed his fist on the table again, and put his head into his arm before sitting back up.

"Dammit, Steve! We can't lose you," he said, his voice raw with anguish. Peggy bit her lip and swallowed the sob rising in her throat. Seeing Bucky so distraught for feeling exactly as she did was going to make her cry. And she wouldn't do that. Not now. Not yet.

"Bucky. Peggy. This is my choice." Steve spoke clearly, determinedly. Unwaveringly.

No one said a word.

"Peggy?" Steve's voice crackled through the microphone.

"Steve," she said evenly.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance." Bucky made a strange noise that was halfway between a laugh and a sob. Peggy couldn't help but half smile at Bucky before replying,

"Alright. A week next Saturday at the Stork club. 8:00 on the dot; don't you dare be late. Understood?"

"You got it."

"Steve?" Bucky asked. He wanted a goodbye, even though he wouldn't admit that it was a goodbye.

"Yeah, Buck."

"You don't know how to dance. I didn't get to teach you yet." Tears were already streaming down Bucky's face, but he was smiling at the microphone like Steve was really there.

Steve laughed, but they could both hear the pain in his voice that mirrored their own.

"I know. We'll practice, Buck."

"Promise?"

"We'll start with something slow...I'd hate to step on your t-"

Steve's voice cut off abruptly with static. Bucky looked at the microphone with alarm. He tapped it with his hand, then smacked it.

"Steve?" he said. "Steve?" Peggy watched him, and it was pitiful to watch. He stared at it, lowering his head until his chin hit the control panel.

"Stevie?" he whispered at the microphone, as though trying to coax someone out of it. "Steve, please say something."

Bucky's heart was pounding, and he felt a sudden adrenaline rush. He clenched his jaw, letting the boiling feeling in the pit of his stomach expand so it filled his whole being. Grief mixed with fury, both fueled by his feeling of helplessness and loss. This was similar to how he felt when he saw Steve getting pushed around. But never had that feeling been accompanied by so much _pain._

He stood up and took a deep breath, then another. A whine started in the back of his throat, the way it does when you're about to cry and you can't stop it. It grew steadily until it was a scream, a cry to the universe, an appeal to bring Steve back. It sounded as though it was pulled from him with hooks, dragging the sound out of his throat and making him bleed all the way. In a way, that's how it felt, too.

When Peggy heard him, she just covered her mouth with her hand and bit her hand to keep herself from making a similar noise. She sobbed quietly into her hands for a moment before wiping the tears away and turning in her chair to face Bucky, who was now standing in the middle of the room, his hands clenched.

"Bucky," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "Bucky, _please_." He looked up at her silently, his eyes red and dark. His expression frightened her.

Bucky jumped forward and grabbed his chair. He couldn't even see Peggy right now. He lifted it over his head and threw it at the opposite wall, away from her.

"FUCK SCHMIDT!" he yelled petulantly. "I'll kill him! I'll kill all of them! Hydra can go straight to Hell!" He kicked the chair where it fell, over and over until it was in pieces. Then he punched the screens furthest from Peggy. His knuckles bled, but he kept punching them until all their pieces fell to the floor. He grunted and yelled the whole time.

"Bucky," Peggy cried. "Stop!"

Bucky was seemingly unaware of her. He hit anything he could reach, slamming his hands against the control panel and breaking the screens and even ripping the microphone out of its socket. Peggy cried harder, unable to stop herself. His grief was amplifying her own.

"I'll kill 'em. Right now, while they think they have the advantage," Bucky decided. "Smug bastards won't even see me coming." He walked determinedly towards the door, prompting a small squeak from Peggy. She couldn't protect Steve anymore, but she could protect what he loved.

She ran towards him and grabbed his arm. Bucky froze.

"Let go, Carter," he growled. He tried to shake her but she tightened her grip.

"Stop it," she demanded. "This isn't rational, and you know it. You can't just go charging Hydra – we don't even know where they are now that they've doubtlessly scattered –"

"I don't care," he interrupted. "I'm going. Let go. I don't want to hurt you."

"Bucky –" When he looked at her again, his eyes were large and sad. The anger was gone, replaced by devastating grief.

"I'm doing this for Steve, Peg. Let me avenge him." Bucky pulled his arm away in Peggy's momentary surprise.

In that moment, Peggy only saw what would inevitably go wrong. If he even found Hydra, Bucky would be too blinded by his misery to think rationally. He'd make too many mistakes. He would die in his mission to avenge his best friend, and Peggy will have failed Steve.

"No!" she cried. She threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest. "Stop it! He wouldn't want this, Bucky, you _know_ he wouldn't. He wouldn't want you to be stupid, this is stupid! He wouldn't want to you do kill yourself because of him -!"

Her strength surprised him, because he pulled away and barely budged she was holding on so tightly. So Bucky went the other way, surprising her, and caught her ankle with his, sending them both to the ground.

"How would you know what he wanted? I knew him before you – you don't even know him!" he shouted at her. He wiped tears away from his eyes angrily.

"That's not fair!" Peggy shot back. "We both loved him. I knew him well enough to know he wouldn't want you dead – did you forget what he did for you and the 107th? He wanted you to _live,_ you idiot!" Bucky sat back, his face pale, her words as good as a kick to the stomach. He huffed loudly and looked away from her, wiping at his face again.

"Yeah, well it doesn't really matter what he wants anymore, does it?" he said quietly. "Because he's gone." He pulled his knees up to his chin and watched her for a minute. Peggy could almost see his mind working, analyzing her. Then he said, "C'mere."

"I beg your pardon?" Peggy didn't mean to sound sharp, but the change of tone was abrupt.

"I know what he would want us to do. He would want us to help each other, look after each other. You're right – we both loved him."

"You mean he would have told you to look after me?" Peggy asked, not sure whether to be offended or touched.

"Hardly," Bucky snorted. "If he didn't ask both of us, he'd only ask you to look after me. So come here and we can start all that comforting shit."

"I-alright." Peggy really needed a shoulder to cry on right now, but she wasn't about to admit that to Bucky, nor anyone else. She probably didn't even know it herself, but for the moment, she forgot all of that and told herself that this was more comforting to Bucky than to her.

Well, that was a bloody lie.

She curled up next to him on the floor, leaning against his chest and pulling her knees up the way he had them. He put his arm around her, and the intimacy didn't feel strange the way she imagined it might. It was exactly what she needed, just as it was to him. Peggy let her head fall against his chest and felt her shoulders heave as she started to sob again. Bucky let her curl her hands into his shirt as he rested his head on top of hers and closed his eyes, silent tears streaming down his face, his own hand curled into her sleeve.

Peggy fell asleep like that, and Bucky didn't want to wake her. She was probably happier asleep anyway. He envied her, because he felt like he was in a nightmare he couldn't hope to escape.


End file.
